The track is a short one, but the young people are sliding upon their
sleds and boards over the frozen snow, from the Winkel-warden's house
down to the churchyard wall. And how eager they are, as with glowing
eyes and cheeks they shout at their sport!--I am waiting for
Reiter-Peter; he is coming with his violin to try the new manger song
with me. In the meantime I am looking at the happy children and
writing.
The little ones wear fur caps, and they stumble and puff before they
reach the top with their sleds--and they are down in ten seconds. Much
exertion and a short pleasure! I only hope none of them will bump their
heads against the wall!--Would that I might glide down to it on my
sled--and never return!
Peter is coming. "Sleep sweetly, sleep in holy peace!" The song is so
lovely, and to-morrow----
*THE LAST PAGE*
.... and to-morrow ....
With these words the story closes.
I had read two long rainy days. I had read the experiences of a strange
life, covering a period from the last century up to the preceding
Christmas festival.
.... and to-morrow ....
My head was heavy and hot. I gazed towards the door, fully expecting
the man would enter and go on with his writing and tell us what happened
the next morning, as well as what afterwards occurred. For this is no
ending and no leave-taking; it is a hopeful look into the future, a long
breath of relief, a morning star.
I felt almost convinced that the schoolmaster was still living. He was
surely wandering somewhere in unknown parts, this poor man with his
great, nameless longing, such as all feel more or less, the longing for
the whole, the infinite, the true--incomprehensible though it
be--wherein our striving, weary souls hope to find repose and
deliverance.
A feeling possessed me that I must hasten forth and seek everywhere for
the good, old, childlike man.--And what a terrible struggle and effort
he had made! A vain endeavour after the pursuits of society, a painful
crushing of his rising youthful passion, a despairing plunge into the
entanglements of life, an adventurous journey over the world, a fearful
awakening and disappointment, a flight into the barren wilderness, a
quiet continuous toiling in humility and sacrifice, a great success, a
deep contentment. Old age approaches, a young generation and new
conditions no longer offer opportunity for work; a sad withdrawal into
himself, desertion and loneliness, vague doubts and dreams and a quiet
resignation and peace. In his old age, in his helplessness and
simplicity he becomes a child; a smiling, happy, visionary child. But
the longing and imagination of his youth still remain. And he has
received a great reward, a compensation which reconciles us to his fate,
and which the world can never give, for it only comes to one after the
true fulfilment of life; it is the peace of the soul.
The quail's call on the clock sounded eight. I carefully locked the
sheets of paper in the drawer and went down towards the tavern. It was
already growing dark; a chilling melancholy brooded over everything, and
through the fine dripping rain a sharp breeze was blowing.
Lazarus was standing before the door. He turned his face skyward,
saying: "There is going to be a change." He was speaking to himself.
He certainly had no idea that the young stranger now approaching him
knew his whole history.
On this same evening the host was very sociable, but I was silent and
soon retired to my schoolhouse to rest.
How changed was my view of everything here from that of two days before.
I felt almost at home in this Alpine village where I, like the
schoolmaster, had grown old.
And the man who had founded and developed the parish with his life's
blood was now to be cast aside and forgotten?
No, there were traces of him everywhere. "Invisible he wanders around
day and night in Winkelsteg, at every hour!"--the charcoal-burner had
said.
The next morning was so dazzling that the light penetrated through my
closed eyelids. On opening the window I saw that it was a bright, clear
winter day.
I sprang to my feet. It had snowed, and the white covering lay over the
whole valley and upon all the roofs and trees.